Emotionless
by UntilNeverDawns
Summary: What was I supposed to do, when I fell in love with Draco Malfoy, but I'm promised to Viktor Krum? Rated T for some mild themes. Reviews always appreciated! OC/Draco, Viktor
1. Pity Date

EMOTIONLESS

written by UntilNeverDawns and WonderfullyWicked

**A/N: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or the setting of Hogwarts. I do, however, own my character, Charlotte, her family/friends, etc. and the plot. [Minus the stuff WonderfullyWicked wrote. That's all hers.] ENJOY! :)**

PART ONE

**

"Draco, please go. If he finds out—"

"Charlotte, he won't find out. And if he does, I'm a Malfoy—I'm sure I can take him."

"_If he finds out_, he'll whip out his wand faster than you can say 'arranged marriage!'"

"I'm brave, Charlotte—"

"But you haven't exactly been _known_ for your courage..."

"Charlotte, trust me. I love you."

**

SIXTH YEAR

**

The Hogwarts Express was stunning. The red was a perfect, scratch-less scarlet, the smoke billowing from it an opaque white. It was shining like a new car. I'd never gotten excited about a train before, but I figured there was a first time for everything.

I took a deep breath and walked toward it, ready for my first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was only a bit nervous about starting during my sixth year, but that's what you get, I guess, when your father's one of the best Aurors in the magical world.

I took my owl's cage and my robes onto the train with me, trying to find somewhere to sit as quickly as possible. I soon found an empty compartment and sat down, stretching my legs horizontally across the seat so my back was to the window.

Not too long after I got situated, a boy with white-blonde hair and a brooding look in his blue-grey eyes entered the compartment. He was flanked by two heavy-set boys who looked like they needed therapy, an auburn-haired, skinny boy with a Snitch embroidered on his sweater, a lean boy with dark, spiked hair, and a boy with shaggy raven hair who, I noticed, was impeccably dressed.

The blonde one in front dismissed the two heavy boys. They quickly obeyed.

"Who are you?" the blonde asked, sneering.

"Charlotte Collins." I narrowed my eyes back at him.

"This is _our_ compartment," he said. Contrary to his belief, he really wasn't very frightening at all.

"I didn't see your name on it," I retorted.

"Ooh!" The boy with spiked hair snickered.

"Shut it, Zabini!" The blonde barked. He did.

"You're not very nice," I noted. Tempest, my owl, nipped at his cage.

"_I'm_ Draco Malfoy," the blonde said, like he was correcting me. Like that meant _anything_ to me....

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not moving. You can either be civil and share this compartment with me, or you can leave and find another."

Draco Malfoy plopped onto the seat across from me with a huff, as far away from me as he could. The other boys soon followed.

Draco put his feet up on my side of the compartment.

"Those are my robes!" I said, whipping out my wand and moving his feet onto the three boys beside him. Draco scrambled to get his feet off them, his face turning a light scarlet. I grinned.

The other boys, I realized, hadn't moved an inch; they just sat there, staring at me.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" I asked.

"They're taken by your beauty," Draco said, pulling a complete 180. He seemed to realize I was no one to fool with, and all of a sudden, his attitude had changed dramatically.

"Sorry, _what_?"

"You're feisty," he said. "We don't see that too often..." He smirked. I rolled my eyes. I _loathed_ guys who smirked. I got enough of those from Dimitri's quidditch team. He was my cousin, and a beater for the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team. Since I had connections, and I wasn't exactly horrible at quidditch, Dimitri put me on as a reserve Chaser.

Draco looked over at the other guys, mouthed something, and they filed out, knowing looks on their faces. One guy, the one Draco had called "Zabini," winked at me on the way out. I gagged.

"Go on a date with me," Draco said as soon as they were gone, sitting across from me and leaning back onto his hands. The smirk was still plastered on.

"Er, sorry, how can you go from loathing me to asking me on a date?" I asked, confused and a little put off. He laughed, as if recalling a private joke.

"No one responds to me like that. Well, no one of _your_ kind, at least," he clarified.

"_My_ kind?" _Americans?_ I thought. This boy was _so_ weird.

"Girls. Females. Women. Take your pick," Draco responded. "It's different, like a newly discovered wine. I think I can crack your code."

"My code. Really," I said blankly. "I wouldn't go out with you even if you _didn't_ have that ugly smirk on your face." I sat up, facing him squarely. He frowned, leaning forward. "Besides, I don't do pity dates."

"It wouldn't be pity," he said, clearly amused. "I said nothing about pitying you."

"Oh, no. You've got it all wrong," I replied, laughing. "_I'd_ be the one doing the pitying."

*********


	2. Not So Great Hall, Rooming Arrangements

**A/N: If the parts end in conversation, there will be a recap, just to get you back "in the mood." :) Enjoy!**

PART TWO

Recap:

"Go on a date with me," Draco said as soon as they were gone, sitting across from me and leaning back onto his hands. The smirk was still plastered on.

"Er, sorry, how can you go from loathing me to asking me on a date?" I asked, confused and a little put off. He laughed, as if recalling a private joke.

"No one responds to me like that. Well, no one of _your_ kind, at least," he clarified.

"_My_ kind?" _Americans?_ I thought. This boy was _so_ weird.

"Girls. Females. Women. Take your pick," Draco responded. "It's different, like a newly discovered wine. I think I can crack your code."

"My code. Really," I said blankly. "I wouldn't go out with you even if you _didn't_ have that ugly smirk on your face." I sat up, facing him squarely. He frowned, leaning forward. "Besides, I don't do pity dates."

"It wouldn't be pity," he said, clearly amused. "I said nothing about pitying you."

"Oh, no. You've got it all wrong," I replied, laughing. "_I'd_ be the one doing the pitying."

*********

"You would _not_ be pitying me," Draco sneered.

"Yes, I would. Unless you can convince me otherwise." I narrowed my eyes. I knew it seemed like I was asking for it, but I had standards. High ones.

I had a scale to ten, adding points where I deemed appropriate. Over six, I'd consider going out with you only because I felt sorry for you. Up to seven? Fairly nice guy. Eight to ten, you were the real deal. Most guys failed because of the owl. Tempest knew how to weed them out.

"What do you mean, 'convince' you?" Draco asked, narrowing his steely blue eyes right back at me.

One point for wanting clarification. Most guys took the "convince" portion to mean "kiss me like a slobbery dog until I kick you where you do _not _want to be kicked." The rare few who _didn't_ act like a pig realized quickly that I'm rather difficult to please.

"That means say something or prove to me in some way that you're worth my time."

He looked a little too happy.

"I'm Draco Lucius Malfoy," he started, like that was all he had to say. "I'm a pure blood, I play Seeker for the Slytherin House Team, and I'm the Slytherin Prince."

One point for playing Seeker—I knew this from personal experience, quidditch guys were usually the best kissers, not to mention well-muscled. One point for status.

"What about you?" he said.

Two more for caring about me. Or at least pretending to.

"Charlotte Anne Collins," I introduced, a smile breaking onto my face. "Pure blood, recently dubbed a Slytherin. My cousin is Dimitri Valkov, of the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team. I play Chaser in quidditch, and Dimitri's recently given me the post of Reserve Chaser for his team."

Draco's jaw dropped. He quickly remembered he was supposed to be a tough guy, and closed his mouth. I laughed.

"I am extremely picky about who I date, and finally, I plan to knock you off your throne, Slytherin Prince."

Draco gave me a look like a boyfriend who lets his girl win at something. He turned to my owl and asked what her name was.

One point for showing interest in her.

"Tempest. She's as picky as I am when it comes to _your_ kind," I teased. He laughed once.

"My kind?"

"Boys. Males. Men. Take your pick," I said, and let Tempest out of her cage. She immediately flew to him and landed on his shoulder. He stroked her beak affectionately.

Three more points for the bird actually liking him. He was at nine points. Not bad at all for someone so cocky.

He smiled at me as he stroked her beak. Really smiled. My heart actually _fluttered_, catching me off guard. A point for smiling. I thought about it and gave him one more for being _really_ cute when he did it.

Eleven points. A _very_ impressive, very new record.

"Through heavy deliberation, I've decided to accept your offer of a date, Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"Really, Charlotte Anne Collins?" He joked, giving Tempest back to me. She started preening her tawny feathers.

"Really."

"Not a pity date?" he asked, amused.

"Not a pity date," I confirmed. I twirled my chestnut hair around my finger.

This would definitely be an interesting year.

After mine and Draco's discussion, we changed into our robes and I learned the names of the other boys. Adrian was the one completely obsessed with quidditch, Theo Nott was the one who dressed quite well, and Blaise Zabini was the one who had winked at me. They were all, naturally, Slytherins.

The five of us grabbed a carriage to Hogwarts, a huge, beautiful stone castle that looked like a very expensive college campus.

We sat down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. I personally didn't see what was so Great about it, but I did like the way the ceiling looked like a starry night sky, and the candles that floated just below. The four boys and I were there just long enough to sit down and take one breath before a tall man with greasy hair and some serious fashion issues came to our table.

"Miss Collins, I presume?" he said in a low, nasally voice.

"Yes..."

"I am Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin House. It seems there's been a problem with the rooming arrangements, so you will have to share one with Mister Malfoy here, who has the freedom of a _single_ dormitory. We have, however, taken special precautions," he said, leaning close to Draco, "so there's no room for any _funny business_."

Draco snickered as Snape strode back to the head table, where all the professors were seated.

"Don't get any ideas, Draco," I whispered. "Just because I agreed to go on _one_ date with you does not mean _anything_. Ask any of the guys at my old school—I'm as much a player as you are."

I was bluffing, I'll admit, but I thought it would be far better if I tried to convince him—and myself—that we were nothing serious.

After all, that's what all the other guys who crushed my heart did.

***********


	3. Irreparable Rubbish

PART THREE

"Attention, everyone!" A loud voice blasted through the Great Hall. It was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, a gray old man with half-moon glasses. Dad talked a lot about him when he spoke of the Ministry meetings he sometimes attended.

"We have the honor of housing an American transfer student at Hogwarts this year. Miss Charlotte Collins, will you please stand?"

I stood hesitantly so the whole Hall could, unfortunately, see me. I hadn't prepared to be singled out.

I heard a few wolf whistles, to which both Draco and the teachers gave stern looks. I rolled my eyes—it was annoying, being a novelty to them, a foreigner. I did, however, think Draco's jealousy was adorable.

"Draco," I said as I sat down. "Who are those people over there?" I pointed to a table of people behind me who were giving me funny looks.

"Gryffindors," he replied, bitterness and hatred in his voice. "Don't worry about them."

After the feast, Draco offered to escort me to the room. I accepted, naturally, not having any clue where I was going.

"I can show you around the place, if you want," he was saying. "We'll probably have the same schedule."

We stopped at a slab of rock. I gave him a questioning look. He smirked in reply, to which I cringed, and he spoke to the rock.

"Pure blood."

The rock parted to show us the opening to the Slytherin common room.

"The room's up these stairs," Draco said as we climbed them. "We should, technically, only share a bath and a foyer, but I'm sure we'll adjust."

He showed me to a door that had a small foyer that, I had to admit, impressed me for a school dormitory. There were two other doors in it, with gold nameplates. The one on the left read DRACO L. MALFOY, the right reading CHARLOTTE A. COLLINS.

I was grudgingly impressed, but I was surprised further when my room was already unpacked and in order.

"My things are unpacked!" I marveled.

"The house elves did it," Draco said like it was obvious, coming into my room through the bathroom.

"House elves? At my school in the States we did it all ourselves." Draco looked nauseous at the thought. I laughed. "I'd better not get spoiled, or I'll be in for a rude awakening come spring break."

"Why?" Draco asked.

"My family goes to Bulgaria for vacation. Not much of a vacation if you ask me. Dimitri and our relatives only use magic in the direst of emergencies. Unfortunately, that means doing the dishes by hand."

Draco didn't say anything; he headed to his room. I laughed again. I let Tempest out of her cage and she flew out the window, almost instantly, to the Owlery.

I put in my favorite CD, the one I had to ship all the way from Lithuania and took me the better part of my childhood tracking down. It was rare that anyone had even heard of the group and I loved the CD more than the great majority of my possessions. I turned it up really loud, which brought Draco into my room almost immediately.

"What is that _rubbish_?"

"This _rubbish_ is my favorite band! It's the rarest CD in the States—probably even in the world," I defended. "It took me four years to find it!"

"It's...Muggle music! If you're going to be a Slytherin, at least _act_ like it!" He scoffed.

He pointed his wand at my stereo, sending my CD flying across the room and hitting the wall with enough force to shatter it.

I turned to face him, shocked and wanting to shout "_Do you know what you just_ DID?!"

"Reparo," I said instead, panicking. "_Reparo_!"

"Wait. Charlotte, please—" Draco held his hands up, his eyes wide.

"I HATE you!" I screamed. "Do you realize how much that means to me? Do you realize how hard it was to _find_ that CD?! It took my four _years_, Draco! _Four years_!" I was close to tears. I was so angry I could have turned my wand on him faster than one of Dimitri's quidditch blocks.

"Charlotte! I didn't mean—"

"It's not like I can just go _get_ a new one! _GET OUT!_"

I slammed the door in his face, hoping he would rot in hell.

**************


	4. Reparable Rubbish

PART FOUR

"Charlotte, please. I'm sorry!" Draco pleaded with me through the door. I rolled my eyes, fuming. That CD was _priceless_ to me!

"Charlotte, say something, please." I could picture him on the other side of the door, his head leaning against the frame, weary but persistent.

"Why? You destroyed my most valuable, irreplaceable CD and you expect me to pretend like it never happened?!" I flicked my wand at the door nevertheless, my will faltering.

"Can I try repairing it?"

"Whatever."

He muttered something unintelligible and pointed his wand at the CD. To my surprise, the pieces flew back together and landed in one unbroken piece. He picked it up and handed it to me, our fingers brushing.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"What was that? _Thank you?!_ Charlotte, really!" Draco put a hand on his chest like he's just won an Oscar.

"I said thank you like a polite girl!" I said, smacking his arm. "Don't mock me."

Draco laughed, his blue-grey eyes happy. I wondered if he was happy a lot and in that moment I realized how little I really knew about him. I also wondered if I could get to know him better....

"Listen, I'm sorry about blowing up like that," I said, fiddling with the CD. "It's just that my friends in the States went to this concert with me. It's sort-of my last connection to them."

"_What_ in the name of Merlin does _that_ mean?" Draco said, the Malfoy tone—and sneer—back.

"I'm forbidden to write to them. I can't send Tempest all the way to the States. And when they heard I was moving," I said, remembering, "they said they didn't want to see or hear from me again."

Draco looked at me, rather bored.

I glared. How could he be so insensitive?!

"What? I've never moved in my life!" He whined. "Even when I came here, I was _glad_ to be gone."

"Not many people can relate," I said, translating his words. " I'm just the girl from the States, and after a while, you'll forget I even exist."

"Not if you play that kind of music, I won't," Draco said dryly. I laughed. "And besides, you promised me a date, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

"The first Hogsmeade trip is in a few weeks," he said, like it explained everything. I didn't really know what Hogsmeade was.

"Good night, Draco," I smiled.

He got up to leave, smiling back. "Good night, Charlotte."

~~~~~~ [line]

I woke up the next morning to my newly repaired CD. I hit the shower, turning the heat up—I was unusually chilly that morning. I dried off, putting my chestnut hair in a ponytail. When I was back in my room, I got ready for classes.

I heard Draco shuffle to the bathroom. The shower started and ran for about a minute before it was shut off abruptly.

"COLLINS! You used all the hot water!"

"Boo hoo," I laughed, "when I visit Dimitri they don't _have_ hot water. I've learned to appreciate it—you should too."

Draco growled, opening the door on my side. He glared at me. I smiled back angelically.

His white-blonde hair was dripping wet, the parts below his waist covered only by a towel. I found myself staring at him against my better judgment. _The boy's got abs..._

Draco smirked. I blinked, cringed, and headed to breakfast.

*******************


End file.
